Small Steps

Well, last week's post didn't happen, so here we are again!

From a goals perspective, 2024 was not a great year for me. Last December, as I was thinking of goals for 2025, I got a little depressed because I felt like I was making a list of all the things I was going to fail at in the new year.

That's what overwhelm does. It makes everything feel impossible, or at the very least highly unlikely.

So I made an effort to embrace one of the strategies of Goalsetting 101: break down bigger goals into smaller steps. So fundamental, so basic, and yet as soon as I did it, I felt much better about things. Which is what happens when you give yourself permission to move forward with small steps instead of giant leaps.

Yeah, duh.

The title of Anne Lamott's classic writing book Bird by Bird is a perfect example. It comes from advice her father gave her brother when he had a big school project about birds to complete (at the last minute) and was feeling overwhelmed: "Just take it bird by bird."

January rolled over us hard and fast, and if you feel off-balance like I do, small steps can also help keep us moving forward even if we're not in pursuit of a particular goal. Sometimes, just making it to pajama time at the end of a day is enough.

Be well, and I'll see you soon!

Weekly Roundup 2: Cold Snap Edition

It feels like January around here! We've been below zero and in the single digits for a few days now. Not as bad as some parts of the country, but it has definitely put me in hibernation mode. 

The question of value: Since the new year, my husband and I have been working on clearing out things we no longer have a use for. This has forced encouraged me to think about what I value and why. Is it practical value (things I use and/or enjoy regularly), sentimental value, or actual (monetary) value? I'm surprised at how often I feel a sense of obligation to an object, usually because someone gave it to me, sometimes because I've just always had it. The process is occasionally challenging, but at the end of the day, it feels good to be able to let go.

Writer to-do list: This is not really a new year thing, because I always have a to-do list going. The current one includes finally doing a proper website, continuing to slog my way through a challenging (but mostly fun) first draft of a manuscript, working on picture book projects, connecting with various writing communities, and of course submitting, since this is my word for the year. I still struggle with time/life balance, so I'm hoping to pick up a few helpful tools and pieces of advice along the way.

Death of Peregrine: The Peregrine moon lander had a successful launch but has been doomed by a propellant leak. Instead of the planned lunar touchdown on February 23, it appears that Peregrine will reenter the Earth's atmosphere and burn up. It's carrying (among other things) pictures of footprints, messages from children, and human DNA samples, including one from science fiction author Arthur C. Clarke. RIP Peregrine!

The most wholesome thing I saw this week: Tidy Welsh Mouse

Second Quarter Check-In

Believe it or not, we're a week into the second quarter of 2021. For anyone like me whose shiny new January commitments feel like they're wavering a bit, I'll share something I read recently about entering into contracts with yourself. 

The gist is that we are much more inclined to keep contracts/promises/agreements made with an outside party because we can better envision and anticipate the consequences. If you promise you're going to meet a friend for an outdoor, socially-distanced coffee and you don't, you know that without a very compelling reason for your absence, your friend will be a little perturbed. Plus, being reliable is common courtesy.

But we break promises to ourselves all the time, often without a second thought. The problem with that is, we become accustomed to our unreliability. A way to be more mindful about this is simply to write it down. 

Take one or two of the more important items from your to-do list and elevate them to the next level of commitment by writing a contract with yourself. 

• Give each a separate slip of paper. 
• Be as formal (I, the undersigned, hereby affirm...) or as casual (I'm Gonna _______) as you wish. 
• Use specific language regarding what you will do and when. Big statements such as "I will clean the garage" can end up feeling wishy-washy and/or overwhelming. Give yourself a wide enough window to account for the life's unpredictability.
• Sign and date the bottom.
• Post it where you will see it every day.
• When the contract is fulfilled, give it a big star or an A+ for a job well done.
• If you don't manage to follow through for whatever reason, assign a consequence and renegotiate the terms.

The month of March showed me how easy it has become for me to not get much done. I have pandemic and work-from-home burnout, and I'm just kind of tired. So maybe a contract is what I need to recommit. But first I have to commit to making a contract.

How was your first quarter of 2021? Any changes upcoming for Q2?

The Magic of Alice Hoffman

 

On Sunday, I had the pleasure of attending a virtual book event for Alice Hoffman's latest, The World That We Knew. I love how Ms. Hoffman works magical realism--if not outright magic--into her stories, and this one is no exception. And she seems like a very nice person :-)

Here are a few short takeaways:

Themes of the book include affirmation of life, but also how the tolerance of aberrant behavior often leads to terrible things. It is a fable of feminism and fantasy, a novel ultimately about mothering, especially in times of crisis. She also referred to the book as a "deadline" novel in which the characters must move fast and cannot take time for granted.

She attributes her success at so masterfully intertwining storylines in part to the fact that she is an admittedly bad knitter. Like knitting, writing can be complicated, but you still have to get the threads right.

Storytelling is sometimes seen as a lesser achievement, but Alice sees it as the female way, passing down stories the way her grandmother and mother did for her. 

Fiction tells the truth on an emotional level. It's about feeling, whereas non-fiction is often about thought.

She starts a book with a question, i.e. how did people survive a terrible time? Then she creates the world so the characters can walk in. Eventually, as all characters do, they will let her know where the story should go.

Simple enough, right? I thought the book was wonderful and wholeheartedly recommend it.

Take care, and I'll see you next time!

Year-End Supercut

Wow! Happy New Year! I can't believe it's the end of my 2019 Take It or Leave It Challenge--let alone the end of a decade. Don't get me started on how time flies. 2020? Really?

For the last week of the challenge, I tried putting the pieces together for a supercut of this year's Take Its. Bullet journaling and planking, remember those? And balancing on one foot, reading fairy tales, dry brushing, and drinking all that water? Yeah, I barely remember them, too. Though I tried to keep up, I found myself getting farther behind the Take It 8-ball as the weeks progressed. (And I wasn't so great with all the Leave Its, either.)

Which brings me to the two big lessons I learned this year: 1) even small changes can have big effects, and 2) I need more than one week to turn those small changes into habits. There is a common claim in popular culture that it takes 21 days for a behavior to become habit, but the research doesn't back it up. For instance, a study in the European Journal of Social Psychology found that it can take anywhere from 18-254 days for a person to form a new habit, with the average being 66 days. Some habits are easier to make/break than others, and some people are just better at it.

This week was a good reminder of all the little life tweaks I enjoyed discovering this year. But with the craziness of the Christmas holiday, it was also pretty much the worst week to try pull it all together. So in the interest of giving myself a fair shot, I decided to extend my supercut for one week. It seems only fitting, as January is prime time for goals and resolutions and all that good stuff.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by this year! I hope you'll continue to visit in 2020. And I wish you a great start to a year--no, a decade--full of health, happiness, and prosperity!

5-Letter Word for a Rectangular Board

Unless you've been living in a fitness blackout zone (I honestly don't blame you if you are; no judgment here), you've heard how important strong core muscles are. Because I often feel like I have the core fitness of a mushy apple, I decided to try a week of planking. Note that I'm referring to the exercise, not the weird fad of lying face-down in unusual places. (Apparently, that is also called the Lying Down Game, which sounds like something invented by the desperate parent of a toddler who will...not...nap.)

Planking: the fad 

The internet is full of planking challenges, but mine was short and simple: three planks a day. I started with thirty seconds per plank on the first day, which didn't seem quite painful enough, and finally settled on a minute. Other than the occasional forearm plank, I didn't change up my form. No side plank, stability ball plank, reverse plank, or walking the plank. (A little pirate humor for you, arrr.)

In general, I am not averse to strength training exercises, but I discovered over the course of the week that I don't really enjoy planking. Sometimes my wrists hurt. Sometimes my back complained. Sometimes my dog came to see what I was doing and licked my face. Every single time I planked, I was glad when the minute was over. I could, however, feel all the muscles engaging as they are supposed to, so I'm sure planking is good for me even though I kind of hate it.

Planking: the cat

Now I must decide: take it or leave it? According to the internet, the benefits of daily planking include increased strength and flexibility, improved posture, decreased risk of spinal injury, better balance, and a boost in metabolism. I could use all those things. So I guess this week's Take It or Leave It is a grudging Take It.

Happy Halloween! How's Your Outline?

Happy Halloween, also known as the last day of sanity before the crazy business that is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. I tried, and sort of completed, NaNo for the first and only time five years ago. I say sort of, because I ended up with the required 50,000 words, but they were evenly split between two projects that have never since seen the light of day.

Because five years is long enough for me to forget about the dual pains of carpal tunnel syndrome and rampant feelings of inadequacy, I've decided to try it again. I have higher hopes--and a better outline--this year. My first novel Passing Through (see the I Wrote It tab above) was published almost two years ago, so it's high time I get cracking on the sequel. I've done as much plotting as my pantser self can handle, and tomorrow I will jump in and try make sense of it all.

(Wait... Does NaNo require that things make sense? I don't think so. Whew. That's a relief.) 

In my defense, I have completed drafts of a couple of other manuscripts in the last two years, but the inescapable fact is that I am one of those slow and methodical turtle writers. I know NaNo won't cure me in the long term, but if all goes as planned, it will kick me into higher gear, at least for 30 days.

Maybe I will drop in here at the blog to update my progress, and maybe I will just let things ride until December. Good luck to all the NaNo'ers out there! I hope we all cross that 50,000 word finish line!

--Jenny

  

Declaring Independence

(Today's post appears in the book Write Away, A Year of Musings and Motivations for Writers, which I co-authored with Kerrie Flanagan.)

Happy Independence Day, everyone. Though July 4th marks the celebration of an American holiday, independence, as we’ve seen in such dramatic examples this year, is an idea that has no geographic or political boundaries. Independence inspires revolution and builds nations, but it works on a smaller scale, too. Fledglings seek independence from the nest. Kids seek independence from their parents. Cats seek independence from everyone.

In the spirit of the day, let’s all take a moment to declare independence from something that’s holding us back in our writing lives. Perhaps you belong to a critique group which doesn’t meet your needs, but you’re reluctant to call it quits because they’re such nice people—and the snacks are delicious. Or maybe you need to put a little distance between yourself and social media. It’s fun, and it can be useful, but it can also be a huge distraction. Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m willing to bet that whatever your long-lost friend from third grade is doing these days, it’s not as important as your work-in-progress.

Today, I’m declaring independence from the word ‘never.’ I have nothing against the word itself—it’s a fine word that can have great dramatic effect. One of my favorite examples comes from the movie Batman Begins. The stately Wayne Manor, besieged by a gang of vigilantes, is burning. Bruce Wayne is trapped. After loyal butler Alfred (whose last name, by the way, is Pennyworth) dodges flaming debris to help rescue his billionaire boss, Bruce asks, “You still haven’t given up on me?”And Alfred replies, “Never.” Because Alfred is played by Michael Caine, it sounds like “Nev-ah.” Which makes it even better.

But many writers use ‘never’ in self-defeating ways. We say we’ll never finish our novels, never get published, never make any money, never get our big break. Used thusly, ‘never’ becomes a heavy anchor around the neck, and who has the desire or strength to carry that around all day? So I’m going to try and use ‘never’ only in contexts that I’m certain are true (e.g. I’ll never be 5’7” tall) or affirming (e.g. never give up). Take notice, all you negative nevers. I’m kicking you to the curb.

As for my old nemesis, chocolate, well, that truly is a case of never say never.

From what will you declare your independence today?

It's New Month Resolution Day!

Happy March, everyone! Two months of 2018 are already in the books, and I keep thinking it's still 2017. That's how far behind I am. But I'm one of those people who believes every month is a chance to start fresh. It feels a lot more manageable than making resolutions on January 1st that are supposed to somehow keep their freshness and appeal for an entire calendar year. I have found that resolutions are rather like English muffins...after 30 days, they're pretty stale and need to be replaced.



So, goodbye failures of  February, and hello shiny, brand-new potential of March. Today, I will do my first-of-the-month rituals: flipping calendar pages, changing the photo in my "seasonal" frame, replacing the kitchen sponge, and committing myself to a few action items. Like most writers, I have overarching goals that don't vary much during the course of a year--or decade, or, probably, lifetime. But because I have a short attention span and am easily overwhelmed, it helps to break them down on a monthly basis into slightly different combinations. It's kind of like moving furniture. The room is basically the same, but with a new look. And possibly a new throw pillow. (Note to self: you do not need a new throw pillow.)

This month, I resolve to blog once a week, submit (something, somewhere) once a week, and increase my social media participation. Oh, yes, and write!

Before I go, here's an interesting tidbit about March 2018: it will have two full moons, one on the 1st, and the second on the 31st. It seems to me that those celestial bookends should be very good for writers. Because, you know. Books.